Heir
by ToaXabineh
Summary: (TFA, no pairings, not-totally-evil!Decepticons). The thought of finding an heir had crossed Megatron's mind more than once, but he'd never found anyone worthy of becoming his successor. But perhaps the perfect heir has been right under his nose. Optimus Prime: he was young, more capable of learning than older mechs, a skilled fighter...A perfect candidate for Megatron's heir.
1. The Perfect Heir

**Hey everyone!**

 **So, this idea has been nagging me for ages, and after somewhat planning it with my buddy Rian in a sort of mini story through PMs (thanks a bunch Rian! You're the best!)and I decided to try publishing it! So I stayed up a few hours last night typing all of this up XD**

 **This story takes place somewhere around season 2 of TFA! I haven't seen the show in awhile, so if a few things aren't quite right, just think of this as being a bit AU XD Also, in this story, the Decepticons aren't completely evil! Thy just aren't completely good either XD**

 **I would appreciate any feedback you awesome readers would like to give me! I want to know what you all think of this chapter, if you like the idea, ideas for the future of the story and so on!**

 **Also, in future chaps, I will likely bring in Decepticons from other shows, like Breakdown from TFP! So don't be surprised if you see 'cons who aren't originally in TFA in the future chaps!**

 **Furthermore, in this story, Cybertronian aging is a bit different! Like in America, where teens are considered to technically be adults at eighteen years, Cybertronians are considered to be 'adults' at eighteen vorns (the Cybertronian equivalent of a year). However, Cybertronians can live for hundreds of vorns, thus, despite technically being adults, Cybertronians under the age of (at the very least) thirty vorns are seen to be little more than younglings. This is an important detail for the story!**

 **Now, I hope you all enjoy, and pleaseplease PLEASE leave feedback so I know if I should continue with this story!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

The control room of the ship was, for the most part, silent aside from the scuffle of pedes and whir of the ship's inner mechanisms. Megatron stood, tall and imposing as he examined the image on the holoscreen before him, servos folded behind his back.

On the screen was a security feed of one of the brig cells, the only one occupied at the moment in fact.

Optimus Prime…

Megatron had to admit, despite being rather young for a Prime (Megatron wasn't sure of the Prime's exact age, but judging by his voice and appearance he was younger than quite a few other Primes), Optimus Prime was a worthy opponent. He was intelligent, and what he lacked in physical strength (it was hard for him to pack too much of a punch with his lithe frame), he made up for with creative strategy, speed and flexibility.

He was unique as well, for an Autobot. He didn't hold the biased views the council had implanted among the ranks of the 'bots, for he didn't value a mech or femme based on their birthplace or what caste they had been part of. The Prime also didn't allow his views to be swayed –he kept to his morals, and refused to be cowed by anyone, even when they tried to pull the rank card on him. He of course had the disgustingly idealistic idea of justice most 'bots had, but he wasn't blind to the faults of the council or his fellow Autobot. If he felt what someone was doing was wrong, he would call them out, regardless of the consequences.

He was quite a rare kind of mech to find among the Autobots, and frustratingly hard to overwhelm.

But finally, _finally_ the Prime had been caught. The most recent battle with the Prime's rag-tag team, Megatron had separated the Prime from his team and managed to overpower him and knock him unconscious.

And now he had the Prime locked away in a cell. It was a rare, exquisite opportunity to gain information about the Autobots that his own spies had been unable to obtain.

At the moment, Shockwave was running scans over the Prime. Despite how many battles Megatron himself and his Decepticons had fought against the Prime, Optimus was quite the enigma. No files to be found in the Autobot data banks they'd hacked, no medical records in the main hospitals of Cybertron, just...Nothing. And so Megatron was taking the opportunity to have Shockwave gather some much needed data.

Despite having his arms chained outspread and hanging a couple feet from the ground, the Prime hadn't lost any of his fighting spirit. A slight smirk twitched at Megatron's lip plates as the Prime kicked out at Shockwave for what was not the first time. The somewhat irritated scientist stepped out of range, looking away from the scanner he was presently using.

"Desist that at once." Shockwave demanded, tone warning.

Optimus only scowled in return, kicking again when the scientist shifted closer again.

"Frag off." The Prime spat, glaring at Shockwave with blazing, cobalt optics.

Megatron had to admit that Shockwave was handling the situation with more patience than he ever could have. The scientist delivered a good thwack to the back of the Prime's helm.

"Enough. I am only scanning you, you are acting deplorably."

Another kick was the Prime's reply, and Shockwave delivered a solid hit to Optimus' helm that had the Prime seeing stars. This stunned the Prime momentarily, and Shockwave took advantage of this opportunity to finish running his scans. Seemingly satisfied with the information he'd gathered, Shockwave left the cell, looking over his gathered results.

Megatron continued to watch the surveillance feed. The Prime slumped slightly as he found himself alone again. He didn't yell after Shockwave with demands that he be freed, like most Autobot prisoners would. No, he was simply staring off in the direction Shockwave had left, and Megatron could all but see the wheels turning in the Prime's helm. For a brief moment Megatron found himself relieved that he'd decided to have the Prime placed in the most secure cell of the brig, and restrained in a position that was near escapable to boot.

Megatron didn't turn when he heard the doors to the control room slide open with a hiss, only tilting his helm slightly towards the sound of approaching steps.

"Shockwave." He greeted briskly. "Report."

The scientist didn't even hesitate.

"Physical scans showed signs of strain on his cables and struts from several vorns ago. Such damage would stem from heavy lifting. That, combined with the trace signs of malnutrition from the same time, lead me to believe he is from the lower docks of Tyger Pax."

Tyger Pax? That was close to Kaon, and the lower docks nearly as bad as Kaon as well. It was strange that the council allowed someone from such a place rise to the rank of Prime, Megatron mused. The council liked their precious Primes to be from cities like Iacon or Praxis, from families of a higher caste…

"There are signs of several surgical procedures as well. At his waist, several extra support struts were added, likely in an attempt to avoid having the Prime's middle crushed in battle." No surprise, really. The Prime was rather thin around the waist for a mech. "However, these struts were improperly implanted, and no one has bothered to resolve the issue. The struts are more of a hindrance than an asset, I find it curious he can fight so adeptly when these faulty struts likely cause him pain often. Further surgery has slightly changes his physical appearance, and I have concluded that at one point in time, Optimus Prime had several Kaonian features."

Even more intriguing, Megatron thought with the quirk of a metal brow. Those with even a hint of Kaonian heritage were so often looked down upon, how had the Prime even managed to enroll in the Academy?

There was an odd pause of silence, an uncommon moment of hesitance that was rarely seen from Shockwave, and while it only lasted a nano-sec, Megatron picked up on it. He said nothing, though, as Shockwave spoke up once more.

"I admit I was…surprised, when I came to the conclusion of Optimus Prime's age. I previously thought him to be thirty-two vorns, perhaps a bit older, but he is not. He's twenty."

Megatron froze, optics widening and jaw nearly dropping.

Twenty vorns? Optimus Prime was…twenty vorns?

Twenty vorns! He was hardly out of his younglinghood!

For Cybertronians, twenty vorns was hardly more than the blink of an optic! Cybertronians could live for hundreds of vorns, not even being considered to be young adults until eighteen vorns (and even then, to most they were still viewed as little more than children).

The one who had been fighting against Megatron and his Decepticons with more honor and bravery than any other Autobot he'd met was hardly more than a mechling. Just how had one so young managed to gain the title of Prime? How had the little Prime managed to make it so far into the ranks of the Autobots in so little time? How could he be so skilled on the battlefield at such an age? Megatron had met young 'bots before, the Autobot Bumblebee was a good example, but those 'bots tended to be little more than cadets. So how had a mech of only twenty vorns manage to rise to the standing of Prime?

"Twenty vorns?" Megatron breathed, voice hardly more than a haggard whisper.

"Twenty and a third vorns, if you wish for me to be precise."

Megatron's processor was whirling now, scrambling as preconceptions he'd made about the young Prime were shattered and rearranged. It now made more sense, why the Prime was considerably smaller than most grown mechs, his oddly stubborn mannerisms, actions he'd done that seemed so youthful…

"Mi'lord?"

Megatron was pulled from his musings at Shockwave's voice, and he nodded, regaining his composure.

"Continue."

Shockwave looked back to the small holoscreen that was projected from his arm.

"I managed to acquire his personal Autobot I.D code to locate and access his personal files, all of which were locked deep within the recesses of the Autobot database archives. None of the files held any detailed information about his sparklinghood, and aside from some rather mundane medical records, there was not much information. He was brought into the Academy by the council at the age of fourteen vorns, likely as a charity case to bolster the public's opinion of them. He excelled beyond all expectations of the Academy instructors, showing a natural talent for strategy and combat despite his rather small size and age, and he was quickly inducted into the Prime Program at sixteen vorns, earning the title of Prime at eighteen and a half vorns. After an incident on a planet that was inhabited by dangerous organic life, Optimus Prime was stripped of all duties and assigned to lead a repair and salvage group, though was strangely not stripped of the title of Prime. I also found something rather intriguing: his designation was changed by the council when he was given the title Prime."

Megatron frowned, confused as he looked back at Shockwave.

"Why in the name of Cybertron would they bother to do that?"

Shockwave didn't lift his gaze from the holoscreen.

"His birth designation had distinctly Kaonian origins. Likely the council wished to hide the fact one of the youngest and brightest Prime's in many vorns was, in fact, partially Kaonian."

Megatron's gaze turned to the image of Optimus in the brig, expression pensive.

"…His designation. What is it really?"

If Shockwave was surprised by the question, he didn't show it.

"His birth designation is Orion."

"Orion…" Megatron murmured lowly, seeming to test the name on his glossa. As he looked at the little Prime's image, Megatron found the designation seemed to fit him very well. Better then the designation 'Optimus', even.

And as he stared at the security feed, Megatron found an odd idea blossoming in his processor. The idea was crazy, perhaps even insane…yet also so very appealing.

For ages, Megatron had gone without an heir. Without someone to carry on his legacy, someone to guide the Decepticons onward in the fight to rid Cybertron completely of the caste system and the council. And it wasn't that Megatron didn't want an heir, but rather he had been unable to find a femme to bear one for him, or find one who was worthy of becoming his heir. He'd scoured almost every inch of Cybertron, yet never found any mech or femme who was worthy of being named his successor. His heir would have to be courageous, strong-willed, a natural leader, someone who believed the caste system was wrong, and such a Cybertronian was hard to come by.

But Optimus Prime…

Optimus- no, _Orion_ , he was almost perfect. He was young, with a still impressionable mind. His bravery was unparalleled, and he treated every mech and femme the same: as equals. He was an amazing leader to his team, a talented warrior, and he was smart enough that, with a little guidance, the wool that the council had pulled over the young Prime's optics could be removed.

Megatron turned to Blitzwing, the 'con in question jumping, Icy's stony expression cracking slightly as he was startled by the sudden attention.

"Blitzwing, remove the Prime from the brig. Take him to one of the empty sets of quarters. One near mine."

Blitzwing blinked, taking a belated moment to process the odd order, but then nodded. Icy's face regained its composure.

"As you wish, Lord Megatron."

Megatron turned back to the holoscreen before him as Blitzwing left. The little Prime was shifting and squirming, testing the chains that held him to see if he could find any way to slip free (without any success). He didn't appear afraid, like most in his situation would. No, he was displaying anger and irritation, with an edge of determination that Megatron so often saw in the Prime's face.

Previously, this had all been about interrogating the Prime. Now it was much, much more.


	2. Conversations

**Hey all! I finally got this chap finished! It took a little longer than I thought it would, sorry about that x_x**

 **Anywho, thank you so much for all the favs, follows and reviews! I hope you all continue to let me know if you like the story! Also, feel free to share any ideas you have for future chapters of this fic!**

 **As always, disclaimer's on my prof.!**

 **Sorry for any spelling errors!**

 **Enjoy and please review so I can know what you all think of the story so far!**

* * *

Optimus was thoroughly confused when he found himself dragged from the dull cell he had been in and was placed in what appeared to be a normal, if a bit sparsely furnished, set of quarters. The young mech hadn't been able to get a straight answer from Blitzwing as to what was going on, and thus far no one else had come by to check on him.

First thing, Optimus had searched for any way out or anything that could be used as a weapon. The door was locked from the outside, the window that looked out across the sky was made of non-breakable glass, and there were no sharp objects to be used for defense, and anything heavy that could've been used as a weapon was bolted down. There was only one real option of escape: wait for someone to come check on him and make a run for it the moment the door opened. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was at least something.

And that led to now, with Optimus watching the door critically, trying to ignore the ache in his shoulders and arms from his time chained up, and the soreness at his middle caused by his extra support struts. He kept his mind busy and off of the pain by trying to decide how to get from the ship, which was in the air, to the ground. It was possible that the ship might have an inbuilt groundbridge, which could easily get him to the ground, but the question was if there even _was_ a 'bridge. Another option was that he could try and repair his deactivated weapon systems and fight his way to the control room to steer the ship downwards towards the ground, but that was dangerous, it could even be the death of him. Both options had their faults, it was a matter of determining which had a higher likelihood of success…

Optimus straightened, optics brightening with hope when he heard the whir-click of the door's magnetic lock being switched off. Someone was going to open the door. Feeling a jolt of anticipation, Optimus tensed up, preparing to run.

The door slid open with a mechanical hiss, and Optimus bolted, attempting to dodge around the large form in the open entryway-

This was apparently expected as a large, heavy arm caught him about the waist and threw him back into the room. The action sent a stab of pain through his middle, his extra struts all but creaking under the strain placed upon them. Stumbling back, Optimus managed to lean back against a wall to prevent himself from falling on his aft, but it took him a moment to regain his composure and will away the sharp pain to a dull ache. He lifted his helm to send the intruder a glare.

Megatron stared back, a metal brow quirked.

As the warlord stepped into the room, the door sliding shut behind him, Optimus shuffled back a few steps to keep some space between them. The Prime's processor was scrambling, trying to decide how to fight back if Megatron attacked (considering his weapons systems had been deactivated and he was running low on energon, Optimus' chance of being able to fight back were significantly low).

But Megatron made no move to harm him. Instead, after silently sending a comm. code to lock the door, he crossed the room to stand before the window at the back wall, folding his servos behind his back as he stared out at the darkening sky.

"I hope you find these accommodations satisfactory." A slight quirk of the mech's lip plates. "At least compared to your… _former_ quarters here on the ship."

Optimus glared, cobalt optics darkening. He didn't deem that with a reply, instead asking,

"What am I doing here, Megatron?" Optimus demanded. He added sarcastically, as an after thought, "This room seems a little too _comfy_ for an interrogation."

Megatron smirked slightly. Sharp wit, as always… For a moment he was silent, seeming to decide how to answer. After a moment, his optics turned to Optimus.

"The answer to that is…complex."

Optimus hadn't expected the older mech to say that, but his reply was immediate.

"I'm sure I can handle it."

Regarding Optimus closely, Megatron gestured to one of the two seats in the room, moving over to the other himself and sitting. With great hesitance, the Prime moved to the seat opposite Megatron, sitting while he kept a wary optic on the large 'con.

The seat was surprisingly comfortable, if a little large for someone his size, and Optimus nearly sighed in relief as the ache in his mid-section died away.

Megatron threaded his digits together, servos resting in his lap. Keen red optics looked Optimus over for a few long seconds, a heavy silence falling.

"You are much younger than I expected."

Optimus blinked, taken aback by the sudden, unexpected statement. His brow furrowed.

"Uh…Excuse me?"

"Shockwave's scans revealed you were not around thirty vorns, as many of us here on the ship believed. I admit I was surprised to find you are, in truth, barely out of your youngling years."

Optimus felt his cheek plates heat up with embarrassment, like they usually did when someone commented on his age. Feeling a flare of indignance, along with the sensation of needing to defend himself, the Prime scowled andsent Megatron a stern look.

"I might be young, but that doesn't mean I can't keep up with the more experienced Autobots-"

Megatron raised a servo to silence the younger mech.

"I wasn't implying such a notion. I have seen you fight –have even fought you myself. You're a far more capable fighter than a good number of mech's twice your age. I'm merely voicing my surprise."

"And what exactly does this have to do with whatever you're planning?" Optimus asked impatiently, crossing his arms over his chassis.

A flicker of amusement passed through Megatron's optics, and he canted his helm.

"Impatient, aren't you?"

Optimus' scowl deepened.

"I was knocked out, then woke up in a cell, and then got dumped in a regular set of quarters. I think I have a reason to be a little more than confused and irritated."

Megatron hummed, a slight smile curling at his lip plates.

"A fair point, Orion."

The young Prime froze. Had Megatron just...?

The shocked expression on Optimus' face quickly became stony.

"That's _not_ my name." He hissed sharply. For some reason, hearing his birth designation made his spark twist.

Megatron remained unfazed.

"You mean it isn't the designation the council deemed upon you. I refuse to call a mech or femme by any other designation but the one given to them at birth." A small grin. "Besides, I believe the designation 'Orion' fits you far better."

"It-"

"As to why you're here, previously I planned to interrogate you."

Optimus, deciding to let go the topic of his name for now, frowned in confusion.

"'Previously'? And now?"

Megatron was silent or a few seconds, seeming to find the right way to word things. Then he looked to Optimus again, his bright red optics holding an intensity to them that Optimus hadn't ever seen (Optimus found himself on edge, being on the receiving end of that stare).

"For vorns upon vorns, I've searched for an heir. No femme would bear me one, and I have never found any worthy of being named my successor." Optimus felt a pit grow in his tanks as the older mech continued, "My heir must be intelligent and strong, with the capability of being a great leader, the belief that all are equal no matter their caste, and armed with unparalleled bravery. All qualities you have."

Optimus felt as if he'd been doused in cold water. He then quickly shook his helm.

"Frag no. You'd better not be saying what I think you are, Megatron. You better not!"

Megatron raised a brow, a sly smile tilting at his lip plates.

"Congratulations. I have decided that you will be my heir."

Optimus' jaw dropped, optics widening.

"Not a chance!" He snapped, on his pedes now. "In case you've forgotten, I'm an Autobot! A _Prime_!"

Megatron peered up at the young mech, unperturbed.

"Your act as if joining the Autobots is a permanent, irreversible thing. Many an Autobot has defected to the Decepticons."

Angry blue optics all but burned holes into Megatron's plating, and blue plated servos clenched into fists.

"I would _never_ desert the Autobots! They're the only thing standing between you Decepticons and th-"

Megatron scoffed, cutting off the irritated 'bot.

"Don't tell me you _honestly believe_ the lies you've been fed." Megatron's piercing optics fixed onto Optimus' stunned face. "You're far too smart to take everything simply at the council's word. Just as Autobots are not inherently good simply because they are Autobots, one is not evil because they join the Decepticons. Nothing is black and white, Orion. Nothing is ever so simple."

Optimus hesitated for a moment, expression wavering with a split-second of indecision before he managed to gather his composure. He frowned, face becoming determined.

"I _know_ things aren't so clear in war. But I've seen what you 'cons do. I've seen you offline innocents, and torture good 'bots who had more honor than half the mechs and femmes in your ranks all put together. There's a better chance of Starscream becoming a 'bot then there is of you convincing me to be your heir!"

Silence fell, heavy and nerve-wracking. Optimus waited for Megatron to lose his temper, to throw him into a wall or yell at him for being foolish….Yet neither of those things happened. Instead, with a weary sigh, Megatron stood and headed for the door.

"I suppose we'll see what comes with time." Was Megatron's simple reply. He paused at the door, glancing back at Optimus. "Energon will be brought for you soon. I expect to see it gone when I return tomorrow."

And then he was gone.

Optimus' servos clenched into fists at his sides, optics darkening a few shades with anger.

Of all the gall! Who did Megatron think he was, ordering him around like that?! As if he had any right to tell Optimus what to do, as if he were one of the soldiers he commanded! If Megatron thought Optimus would allow himself to be cowed like this, allow himself to be swayed by blatant lies, then he was dead wrong!

Slamming a fist against a wall (and leaving quite an impressive dent), Optimus moved to glare out the window at the now dark night sky. The Prime forced himself to take a few deep vents, calming himself. It wouldn't do him any good to let his anger rule his actions. No, he had to be smart, especially in a situation like this.

By now, his team was bound to be looking for him. Maybe they'd even contacted Ultra Magnus to request for help in retrieving him from the 'cons. Considering Optimus and his team were at the very forefront of the battle against Megatron, Ultra Magnus might very well even send a bot or two to help his team find and rescue him.

Still, it would be best if Optimus could escape himself. If he got away from the Nemesis, then the others could locate his life signal and send help to fend off the 'cons that would undoubtedly pursue. This was a far more preferable option, because if he managed to get off the ship than he and any help sent his way wouldn't have to fight of an entire ship's worth of 'cons. That meant less of a chance of any 'bot getting hurt, and a higher chance of escape in the long run.

Optimus' mind wandered to what Megatron had said. The last thing the young Prime had ever expected was for the merciless warlord to seek out an heir. And why was this happening only now? Because Megatron had learned of his age? His past? It was throwing Optimus for quite the loop, because he wasn't quite sure why either of those factors would have anything to do with this sudden one-eighty in Megatron's behavior.

None of this made any sense.

* * *

Megatron quietly looked over the datapad in his servo. It was the compiled report Shockwave had written on his findings concerning Optimus- no, _Orion_ , Megatron mentally corrected himself.

Aside from the information of Orion's birthplace, his age, his true name and the medical procedures preformed on him, there was an infuriating lack of new knowledge. Of course, now Megatron knew far more than he had, but there was a blatant gap of information that still resided. This was as irritating as it was strange, to tell the truth. Usually, files on Autobot personnel were usually very detailed, with past criminal records, lists past and present family members…Yet there was none of this in the file belonging to the young Prime currently aboard the ship.

Was the council really so ashamed of Orion's past that they'd buried it away so thoroughly? It was deplorable! They'd changed the Prime's name, hidden details of his past from all others, even used surgical means to change parts of the young mech's frame! It was as if the council had done their best to wipe away the identity of Orion all together and tried to replace it! And Orion had gone along with all of it!

Though what choice had the little Prime had, really? He'd only been a youngling at the time, and considering he'd worked on the docks of Tyger Pax at such a young age he'd no doubt lived a life of poverty, alone and at the mercy of the cruel living conditions of the docks. The Academy had to have seemed a paradise to him, with plenty of energon to go around and no one to try and mug you. Megatron could understand why the Prime would do anything to stay in such a place of safety, even if it meant succumbing to the will of the council. Truth be told, Megatron was surprised that the young 'bot had remained so willful and stubborn.

A small smile curled at the warlord's lip plates. He could just imagine the looks on the faces of those council mechs when they realized that, no matter what they did, Optimus still managed to stand apart from all other Autobots. Even the fragging council couldn't have complete control of everything. Orion was living proof of that.


	3. Energon

**Hi all!**

 **So I finally, _finally_ got this chapter done! it took me awhile to write this out because I wanted to make sure some things were worded in a way that makes sense, and so it took awhile to do that!**

 **I really hope you're all enjoying the story so far, and I ask that you all please review to let me know your thoughts on the story and share any ideas you have for future chapters! I love to hear all the ideas you guys come up with, it serves as great inspiration and helps me get through writer's block!**

 **Anywho, dislcaimer's on my prof., and sorry for any spelling errors!**

 **Enjoy and please review!**

* * *

Megatron stood silently in the command bridge, watching as his soldier's went about their duties. His thoughts were miles away, however, occupied with the sprouting plans he was creating for his new-found heir.

It was the Prime's eighth day upon the warship, the first two days having been spent in a cell, the third day being when Megatron had discovered that he would make the perfect heir, and the forth, fifth, sixth and seventh days Megatron had left the young mech be, hoping to give him a small adjustment period before starting his attempts at persuading him to join the Decepticons. Today, Megatron planned to again leave the Prime be. Orion still viewed him as his mortal enemy, his presence would only cause unneeded stress on the young mech, which would be risky if the warlord didn't have a plan ready to negate the effects such stress would have on the Prime.

Besides, Megatron was patient enough. All plans were best made when one took time to construct them, after all. For the time being he could simply send vehicons to supply Orion regularly with energon cubes, and perhaps by the time Megatron did visit, the little Prime's temper would be cooled somewhat.

Megatron idly tapped a pointed digit against the plate on the side of his leg, optics distant with thought. The best place to start concerning preparing Orion to be his heir was probably by helping him become familiar with the ship. The Nemesis was not only the base of operations now for the Decepticons, but it was also home to those who lived in it. Megatron wasn't about to allow his heir to go around without the proper knowledge of the ship and its systems. Besides, simply explaining the ship's systems and such would be a good way to ease Orion into his new role. It would likely not trigger the Prime's ire as it wouldn't seem to be unrelated to the touchy subject of becoming heir to the Decepticon leader.

Going by that logic, things such as combat and tactic training and teaching Orion the rules and regulations the Decepticon's followed would come later, when the little Prime had acclimated a bit.

Still, even simply speaking with the Prime would be difficult. Orion was stubborn, and wouldn't be all too willing to listen to anything Megatron had to say. Perhaps a reward system of sorts would help earn some form of compliance? More freedom and privileges on the ship granted in small amounts if the Prime behaved and made an actual effort to listen and remember the information Megatron provided, and alternatively, privileges taken if Orion attempted to escape or acted out violently or far too rashly. He'd have to find a good balance, though, Megatron mused. He needed to ensure he didn't lose his temper and punish the Prime for every little act of resistance. It would be unreasonable, to take away privileges every time Orion acted out, as it was perfectly normal for one in the little Prime's situation to resist.

There were other things to consider too, with Orion's presence on the Nemesis. Security would need to be updated, to ensure any escape attempts that the Prime might make would be unsuccessful. Megatron would also need to speak with his soldiers about how they would be expected to act around Orion. He wouldn't have his own followers treating his new-found heir with anything less than the utmost respect. He suspected, though, that it wouldn't be much of an issue. The young were valued highly by the Decepticons -even on the battlefield, non-lethal force was to be used at all times when locked in combat with any 'bot under the age of fifty vorns. The general consensus was that, while eighteen vorns was when one was technically an adult, one wasn't _really_ considered to be fully matured until fifty vorns, when a mech or femme got their second to last frame.

Of course, some of his less...stable, soldiers were more than happy to ignore that unspoken rule. Megatron would just need to keep a closer optic on those particular few, perhaps remind them of their place.

Megatron was roused from his thoughts when Breakdown stumbled into the bridge room, nursing a few dents in his plating and cursing under his breath.

"Fraggin' mini Prime, should'a smacked up upside the helm for giving me that attitude...Jus' trying to give him energon, make sure he doesn't starve, and this' how he repays me? It'll take ages to get these out, that son of a-"

"Breakdown."

The former wrecker gave a slight start, optic turning to his leader. Megatron raised a metal brow, and Breakdown looked sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I uh...I've taken the young Prime his third energon ration of the day, sire." He informed nervously, hoping to have not gained Megatron's ire with his complaints.

Luckily, Megatron was more amused then anything. A slight smirk twitched at his lip plates.

"I see that our young guest gave you some trouble, hm?"

Breakdown sighed, looking suddenly weary.

"I've had 'bots attack me with swords, blasters, even the occasional grenade...Today, the little Prime's weapon choice was several untouched energon cubes that were left laying around. I'll give him one thing, that Prime's got wicked aim."

Megatron almost chuckled, but then he realized what Breakdown had said fully and frowned.

"'Several untouched energon cubes'? How long has it been since he last fueled?"

Breakdown grimaced, shoulder's lifting in a shrug.

"He hasn't even touched any of the energon that has been brought to him. I'm honestly surprised that he was able to chuck those cubes at me- he almost looks dead on his pedes."

Megatron's frown deepened, the large mech's gaze turning away as he rubbed at his chin in thought. He honestly hadn't believed that Orion would refuse to fuel. He had forgotten that the Autobots, paranoid when it concerned the Decepticons, likely taught those in their ranks to never accept any energon from the enemy in case the offered energon was poisoned.

It was unlikely the Prime would suddenly change his mind and accept the energon he was offered, Megatron mused with a grimace. Some form of incentive would be required.

"Sire, if you don't require anything else, may I head to the medbay to have these dents pounded out?" Breakdown asked.

Megatron grunted, optics flicking to Breakdown momentarily.

"Very well. You have finished your duties for the day."

Breakdown, looking relieved, bowed.

"Thank you, sire."

Megatron didn't reply, not even sparing a glance as the former wrecker left.

It seemed he'd be needing to visit Orion a bit sooner then expected.

* * *

Optimus knew that, at this rate, he wouldn't be able to keep awake. His energon levels were dangerously low, and it was a wonder that his body hadn't shut down into emergency recharge yet. Eight human days without fuel was ill-advised, Cybertronians needed at least one cube every two human days to function. Given he hadn't accepted any energon in the past eight days, combined with the fact that his team was on limited rations and he hadn't had any energon two days prior to his capture, Optimus was pushing his luck. It wouldn't kill him- his body would shut down to preserve what little energy it had left, but that would leave him completely vulnerable to the Decepticons.

That thought was less then thrilling.

Still, he wasn't about to risk getting poisoned. He had seen first hand the horror that was a Cybertronian contracting a deadly virus from poisoned energon, and Optimus refused to let that happen to him. Starving or not, he needed to remain vigilant.

The sound of the door being unlocked and opened made the exhausted Prime give a jolt, and he looked up, surprised to find Megatron in the doorway. He hadn't seen the warlord in the past few days, so his sudden appearance here was a bit bewildering.

Stepping into the room fully, Megatron allowed the door to slide shut behind him, sending a databurst to lock the door. The warlord then took a moment to simply inspect Optimus, amused when Optimus almost immediately jumped to his pedes. The young mech's bright blue optics inspected Megatron warily, and he knew that his posture was obviously defensive, his shoulders hiked up high and tense.

Megatron's gaze slid to the rest of the room. He took in the sight of a couple of untouched energon cubes that sat on a metal counter, and then to the floor by the entrance where energon stains, along with the shattered remains of cubes that had been used as projectile weapons lay. Megatron's optics returned to Optimus, and he raised a metal brow.

"You have not been regularly ingesting the energon that has been brought to you. Why?"

Optimus' optics narrowed, his digits curling into fists.

"Seriously? You have to ask?"

Megatron's expression remained carefully blank as he folded his servos behind his back.

"I would like to hear your reasoning."

Optimus grit his denta, hesitating for a moment as he tried to determine if Megatron had any ulterior motive. Finally, he answered, voicing his reply carefully.

"I've seen plenty of mech's and femme's poisoned through energon, I don't plan on being like them."

Megatron hummed, striding over to stand at the large window that overlooked the earth below, paying no mind even as Optimus tensed up even further.

"I see." He cast Optimus a sidelong glance. "I suppose that would be a common occurrence, living in the lower docks of Tyger Pax. Others will often do nearly anything to survive, even disposing of those who risk their chance of finding or keeping a job that allows them to survive."

Optimus felt his spark twist violently. Just how much did Megatron know about him? It made no sense, any and all files concerning his sparklinghood and other personal details had been locked up tight, buried deep in the Autobot personnel file archives...

Megatron didn't seem at all off-put by his lack of response, optics returning to the window.

"You should realize, however, that it would be foolhardy of me to poison your energon, when I plan to make you my heir."

The word 'heir' made Optimus' tanks churn, but he didn't give any outward sign of this, instead glaring at the warlord challengingly.

"For all I know, you're trying to lull me into a false sense of security. You could be saying you wish to make me your...'heir'," He all but choked on the word, "But in actuality plan to offline me. That's not too far from the realm of possibility, you seem like the kind of mech who'd enjoy watching another offline in a slow, agonizing way. Tricking me into drinking poison would provide that."

A slight smirk tilted at Megatron's lip plates.

"Orion, if I planned to offline you, I would not waste time with poisoning you with a virus. You are by far one of the most dangerous Autobots I have ever met. If I were going to offline you I would've done so the moment you were knocked unconscious in battle and unable to escape." Megatron turned to Optimus, and the Prime froze, pinned under the vibrant red optics. "One's most dangerous enemies should be dealt with as quickly as possible, lest you risk their allies rescuing them, or them escaping. Remember that, Orion."

Optimus' gaze became incredulous. Was Megatron...Was Megatron seriously trying to teach him something here? _Now_ , of all times?

The Prime didn't have much time to muse over this, as Megatron turned and strode to the nearby counter, where the untouched energon cubes innocently sat. Picking one up, Megatron went to Optimus, who immediately shuffled back a step. Stopping a couple paces away, Megatron held out the cube to the young Prime.

Optimus blinked, taken aback. His eyes turned from Megatron to the cube, and then back again. Megatron didn't move, waiting.

Slowly, Optimus accepted the cube, keeping his wary gaze on Megatron in case the mech tried anything.

Yet Megatron didn't. Once Optimus had hold of the energon cube, the warlord folded his servos behind his back again.

"Believe what you will concerning the energon. Just remember, even if you do not drink it now, once you crash from exhaustion and hunger you'll end up in the medbay being fueled through an I.V. Either way you will end up ingesting the energon we provide you with, you merely get to decide whether you go about it the easy way, or the _hard_ _way_."

Optimus watched as Megatron headed for the door.

"I will be back tomorrow. I would suggest you get some rest, going so long without recharge is highly inadvisable."

And then the warlord was gone.

Optimus' processor was reeling, trying to understand what had just happened. All of his encounters with Megatron before now, barring the last one they'd had, had all involved physically fighting, pain, not to mention anger. Yet just now Megatron had showed no inclination towards violence. He'd spoken to Optimus almost as an equal, as if they weren't fighting on opposing sides of a war. Megatron had spoken to him, and had actually _listened_ to Optimus. He hadn't even resorted to threats when they spoke about why Optimus hadn't consumed any energon brought to him, he'd merely handed him a cube, told him the facts, and then left...

Optimus could feel the nagging twisting in his tanks still, though, after Megatron had mentioned the lower docks of Tyger Pax, and used his birth designation. No one was supposed to know either of those things. Frag, not even his _team_ knew about his birth place or his designation. It was more than a little unsettling that his greatest enemy seemed to know more about him than his friends did.

Optimus stared at the cube in his hand as he slid down the wall to sit again, his cobalt optics inspecting the glowing liquid as it sloshed around in the container, as if he could see if it was poisoned if he stared long enough.

As much as he loathed to admit it, Megatron's arguments were sound. If Megatron wanted him offlined, then Optimus would've been long gone by now. Optimus would never say it aloud, but Megatron was a more than competent warrior and leader, the large mech would never be so foolish as to leave an enemy alive any longer than necessary unless he wanted to interrogate him or had something completely different planned.

If Megatron wanted to interrogate him, he would've kept him in a cell and left him to starve, not given him a room and leave him alone for a few days (Optimus had noticed quickly that the warlord had been, oddly, giving him space the past few days and had others bring him energon -if Megatron wanted to coerce information from him, it would make more sense that he try to be a constant presence, become someone for Optimus to depend on, not take a step back to give him room to adjust).

With great hesitance, Optimus lifted the energon cube to his lips.


End file.
